A Time to Love and a Time to Heal
by freedomatthesea
Summary: Written for CS Week Day 5: Priest Killian. This will be a two part fic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I do plan to write a second chapter, which delves a little deeper into Killian Jones' past and why he's at the church. I hope you enjoy my sprinkling of humor throughout.

* * *

"Emma Swan."

Emma turned around at the sound of her name, her eyes widening in surprise, "Killian Jones, is that you?"

He laughed, nodding as he tucked two fingers in his clerical collar, tugging lightly, "In the flesh and blood."

"You're certainly not an altar boy anymore," She retorted with a wry little grin, "Should I be calling you Father Jones?"

"Indeed," He leaned towards her, lowering his voice, "But I won't tell anyone if you don't." A chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned back, eyes flickering over her before questioning, "What brings you to the church after all these years?"

Emma tucked her hands into her jeans, looking around the sanctuary, "Apparently one of the members here is using a false name to get out of his bail. I'm following a lead." She shrugged, eyes meeting his blue ones, "It's been forever since I was in a church."

"I missed you." He said quietly, chewing at the inside of his bottom lip. Oh, life would have been much different if she hadn't run away.

Emma grimaced a little, "The whole… Religion thing wasn't my niche." She gestured towards him, "I guess it was yours though."

He shrugged at that, "I had a bit of a revelation at eighteen, that's the only reason I took to the cloth."

Emma flustered at his words. Eighteen had been when she left and he had certainly not wanted to be a priest.

"Eighteen was a pretty good year for decisions."

Emma had ended up in the refuge of the church right after prison, after the baby. She wanted the hell out of Arizona, took a one way bus to Tallahassee. Not to wait for the asshole who had ruined her, but to see what she thought was calling to her there. She spent a year at the church, making friends with Killian Jones, but then she got the opportunity to work with the bonds agency and she headed off to Boston to start over. With little regard to the altar boy because she was far too afraid of history repeating.

"How has life treated you?" Emma questioned warmly, "You ended up in Boston too."

Killian nodded; there were things he would leave unsaid. Like that fact that he had come to Boston to look for her. Hoping that in ten years she was still there in the city. "They needed someone to lead this starter church. So here I am."

"I saw the name of the church on the case file and I couldn't help but have some little hope that they were affiliated." Emma tried to hide just how big her grin was. She had never really felt like this - missing someone. And seeing him again brought back all of those feelings.

Eighteen had been an incredible year, but they had both been far too damaged to think about being anything more than friends. Which, in the end, was a blessing and a curse.

Killian smiled down at her, "Once you catch your guy I hope that you won't be a stranger here."

"I still don't believe," Emma retorted with a smirk, "But maybe I can be convinced to come by and see a certain Father."

"I would like that. We have much to catch up on."

"We could have coffee tomorrow, before you have mass." Emma offered, biting down on her bottom lip.

Killian's grin widened at that, "I think I can arrange that." He tugged at the clerical collar again, clearing his throat, "As long as I can convince you to at least come to mass afterwards."

Emma groaned, "I don't do the whole church thing."

"Fine, I won't make you come to church, just yet." He smirked for half a second before he dropped the expression. It was far too familiar, an action that he had been known for ten years ago. But taking vows had taken away his cocky personality. "I'll see you tomorrow then. At the café."

Emma nodded at that, "Sounds like a plane to me." She started to walk away, before stop, turning around to face him, "It's great to see you again Killian."

"You as well Emma."

* * *

Emma brushed her lips over the edge of her coffee cup as she watched the door of the café. He was late, but it didn't really surprise her at all. He was in charge of a church, there were plenty of tasks that he was obligated to do and coming to the café was not one of them. Especially not with someone that was pretty against ever converting.

"I'm terribly sorry that I'm late," Killian brushed his hand over her shoulder as he stepped around her seat, pulling out his own and seating himself along the side of the table close to her.

"Oh, it's fine." Emma smiled warmly at him, "I haven't got a damned thi-" She cringed, "I haven't got anything to do today."

"No need to sensor yourself around me, love," He chuckled, offering her a kind smile as the waiter came over to take his order.

"Still ordering macchiato I see." Emma smirked at him, watching as he toyed with the edge of his napkin, nervously. "I should have went ahead and ordered for you."

"You have an excellent memory." He chuckled and tapped on the rim of her cup. "Hot cocoa with a shot?"

Emma pursed her lips together, her eyes meeting his, "You remember."

"Well, how many hundred cups of cocoa did I make you in the span of a year?"

Emma laughed, the weight of the past years lifting from her shoulders, " More than I could count. They always improved my day... Among other things."

Killian brushed his fingers over the top of her hand, "Just as your presence has improved my entire year."

"Does the church know they hired such a smooth talking Father?" Emma motioned for waiter, ordering another hot cocoa.

"I hide it well," He smirked, shaking his head at her. "I never stopped thinking about you after all these years."

Emma ran her finger along the rim of her mug, looking down. "I never forgot you either. I tried. But, hell - sorry," She cringed, "But, look at us now. Hundreds of miles from where we first met and we're both here in the city."

"I believe that's what many would say is God's hand in all of this." He winked at her, sipping his coffee. "But I know you don't believe in all of that."

"Does your church know you're out fraternizing with a heathen?"

Killian arched a brow, "They know that I am having coffee with an old friend. You are not a heathen, Emma. You believe in what you want to believe in and that is all that matters."

"I believe in you." Emma added quietly, biting down on her bottom lip, "If that matters at all."

"It matters more than you know." Killian replied, touching her hand gently. "We should do this again sometime."

* * *

"Jones, keep up." Emma said with a teasing smirk, looking over her shoulder at her lanky friend who was trailing behind her. "They're going to find us if you don't hurry up."

"I'm coming!" He shouted as quietly as he could, trying to avoid causing his voice to echo around the sanctuary.

The distant sound of laughter could be heard, the children that they were watching hot on the trail of finding them.

"Come on," Emma grabbed his arm, jerking open the confessional and pulling him in with her. "Tight fit, but they won't look in here." She could barely hold back her laughter as he huffed and rubbed his shoulder. "That did not hurt."

"You've got a vice grip Emma." He retorted, meeting her eyes in the dimly lit space, "They're in the sanctuary now." Killian observed, listening to the sound of laughter not far from where they were.

"They won't find us." She whispered, pressing a finger to her lip and giving him a silencing look.

"Are you sure about that?" He mouthed, stepping a fraction of an inch closer to her, something shifting in his gaze. His eyes flickered to her lips and then back to her eyes, a shaky breath escaping his lips.

"Yes." She assured, a shiver running down her spine as she looked up at him, his breath dancing against her skin, lips mere inches from hers. It was going to happen. _Finally_. After the weeks of flirting and dancing around the pull, it was finally going to happen.

"Found you!" The door to the confessional swung open and they pulled apart just in time before the children caught them in a mildly compromising position.

* * *

Emma jerked awake, her body bolting upright in bed, head whirling with the movement. She hadn't dreamed of that incident in years, in fact she'd pushed it to the furthest recesses of her mind for a reason.

It hurt.

It hurt to remember something that she had wanted so desperately, but had been denied because it just wasn't the right moment. The right time.

Time.

Ten years had passed and she still wanted him – _only_ him. No one else had filled that void that he had left. And it had been left because time was not on their side, nothing had been on their side and it was worse now. He had vows and commitments and she didn't fit into any of them.

Unless…

There was a verse, she remembered it vaguely from the few times she'd attended mass and because she was fairly certain there was an old song that used it for its lyrics. It had something about there being a time for _everything_. And perhaps, just maybe, this was the time for her to confess. To tell someone what she felt for him.

* * *

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to_**heal**_; a time to **_break_**down, and a time to **_build_** up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to **_cast away_** stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to **_embrace_**, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to **_speak_**; A time to **_love_**, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace – Ecclesiastes 3: 1-11

* * *

There was almost no one in the church. Every footfall echoed around the cathedral, making her feel as if the world was watching, despite how empty it was. She slipped into the confessional, pulling the door shut with a heavy sigh.

"Father forgive me for I have sinned."

Emma whispered, her heart hammering in her chest. She could hear the breath of the priest on the other side, but she couldn't distinguish the voice that came from it.

"What is your confession?"

Emma swallowed thickly, "I want someone that I can't have. I've wanted him for ten years but… I was an idiot and now there's no way in Hell that we're going to be able to be… anything."

There was simply silence from the other side of the confessional. Unnerving as it was, Emma knew who was there. The silence confirmed it.

"I've wanted a lot of things in my life, but I don't think that I've ever wanted someone this bad. And I can't have him…" She paused, "I can't have you."

Emma jumped to her feet when the door between them clicked, sliding open.

"Emma." Killian's voice was that much deeper, gravely and mixed with the desire that had been in her own voice. "What you said – about wanting me?"

They were close, the confessional giving them barely any space between them. Breath mingling together. "I want you." She assured, her eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips. "But… you can't."

"Yes I can." Killian retorted, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "I shouldn't, but I can." He brushed her hair behind her ears, leaning closer to her, lips almost brushing hers. "I should have kissed you back then."

"We should have done a lot of things back then, but we were messes." Emma's fingers ghosted over the clerical collar, her eyes holding his gaze. "You should kiss me now."

"I have every intention to," He whispered, letting his lips meet hers gently, tentatively. But she clearly didn't want gentle, she wanted him. He groaned against her lips when she leaned against him, mouth working against his desperately. Her teeth grazed over his bottom lip, fingers winding through his hair, tugging at the strands.

It felt right.

Killian stepped forward, effectively bringing her back against the wall of confessional booth. They'd been side stepping this tension for the past month and now that their lips had finally met, bodies pressing against each other, it couldn't be stopped.

"We're going to get caught," Emma whispered when he began trailing kisses along her jawline, her hands sliding over his shoulders, tugging him closer despite her words.

"No we're not." Killian returned, his lips meeting hers again, hands resting on her hips, "I'm not letting something get in the way of this again."

"This is in the way though." Emma tugged at his clerical collar, "Haven't you got a God that will be unhappy with you for breaking your vows?"

He jerked the collar from his throat, letting it fall to the floor, "Then let me be damned." He kissed her again, hard and needy. This went against every vow he made to himself, every vow made to God, to those around him. But he had waited so long for this moment, for her, for them. He'd chosen God to fill the void she left when she went to Boston, but now he had Emma – here and God was not what he wanted. God had never given him what he needed.

He needed Emma.

A soft moan escaped her lips when she felt him press against her, his body flush against hers, solid and hard.

"Shh." He whispered, lips brushing over her ear, hot breath dancing over her skin, making her tremble against him. "We don't want to get caught, do we?" Killian's fingers went between them, working her jeans open, shoving them down her hips. He vowed to himself, that tonight, he'd give her what she deserved. On a bed, against cool sheets, savoring every minute of it. But, right now this was all they had.

"Killian," Emma mumbled, trying to keep quiet as he hoisted her up, legs wrapping around his still clothed hips. "You're too dressed." Her fingers tangled in his hair, looking down into his eyes, too impossibly blue to even be real.

"Hold on then." He stated, releasing his hold on her and letting her hold herself up against the wall. He jerked the zipper down, letting his slacks fall to the floor just as her jeans had.

Her legs tightened around him, drawing him closer, flesh pressed against flesh. "Oh God." She whispered, her lips parting with a silent moan.

"There's no God involved in this, love." He muttered, his hand tightening at her hip as he rocked forward against her, not quite giving either of them what they wanted.

Killian leaned in, catching her lips, keeping her quiet as he finally shifted and thrust forward, taking her. Now he knew what heaven felt like. Heaven was the warmth of her enveloping him, drawing him, giving him a place that felt right.

He pulled away from her lips, meeting her gaze, "This isn't a one time thing." He swore to her, kissing her softly as he rocked his hips forward, moving slowly. "You deserve this on a bed... After dinner.. Where you deserve it."

Emma's lips parted with a breathy, quiet moan, "I just deserve you. Wherever. It's what I always wanted." They'd taken their sweet time getting to this point, but now they had and it was everything she had wanted.

Killian's hands rested on her hips, holding her steady as he started to move, slow thrusts, taking his time with her. Savoring it completely.

She silenced her moans against his lips, kissing him as if her life depended on it. Legs tightening around him as she felt the onset of her peak beginning. Her muscles trembled around him, hips moving in time with his.

Lips parted, breath mingling, lips brushing, eyes locked on one another. Just a few more thrusts and they were there. Together.

Emma gave him a lopsided grin, a breathy moan escaping her lips when he pulled away from her, letting her feet fall to the floor. She thought he was going to pull away completely and dress again, but instead he leaned against her, keeping her pressed between the wall of the confessional and him. A welcomed sensation.

"How are you doing /Father/?" Emma questioned with a smirk, winding her finger through his hair.

"Positively sinful." He retorted, matching her smirk and kissing her. "Are you against having an affair with a priest for a few more months?"

Emma arched a brow, "Well I'm against him right now... But, what do you mean a few more months?"

"Until I find them a replacement," He stroked her cheek, "I would have never taken the cloth if you had stayed in Tallahassee. But now you're back and... Everything I felt is still here."

Emma let out a breath of relief, "God, I'm glad you still feel the same way, because I do too and..." A kiss could explain her feelings far better than words. She had always been horrible with words. Action first, reaction second.

"We should get dressed," Killian warned, cupping her cheek, "Before someone catches us." He gave her a wry smirk as he leaned down in the tight space to pull his trousers up. "Not that I want to leave."

Emma laughed, "A little more room would be nice though." She leaned up, stealing one more kiss from him. "I'm lucky that it was you on the other side of the confessional."

"I saw you come in," He winked as he leaned back to give her room to dress. "I dreamed about the time… in the confessional when we almost kissed."

"Shut up!" Emma exclaimed, "I dreamed about the same thing."

Killian gave her an incredulous look, "You did not." He smirked at her, stepping close to her and cupping her cheek, "Dreaming about _almost_ kissing you is not as nice as being able to truly kiss you." He leaned in, his lips pressing against hers for a long moment, savoring the sensation. He pulled away, reaching for the doorway that he'd come through, "I'll see you tonight."

"Tonight?" Emma questioned, her eyes widening in surprise. "I'm assuming you're coming by my place."

"I hope you don't mind," There was that charming Killian Jones smile, the one that made her stupidly weak in the knees.

"Not at all, _Father,_ I'll see you tonight." She ran her fingers through her hair, straightening out the knots and sorting out her wrinkled clothes, before she slipped out of the confessional, avoiding anyone who might look at her. But the sanctuary was empty and she knew that she had chosen the right time to heal and to love.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: And here we come to the second and _final_ chapter of this – originally just a drabble – turned fic that came from CS Week: Priest!Killian.**

* * *

Killian hadn't felt this anxious about showing up at someone's place, since he'd been that naïve seventeen year old, going after someone that would end up being disastrous for both of them. He'd never really brought _her_ up to anyone; Emma knew vaguely about what had happened the year before they met, just as much as he knew about what had happened to her. In a strange sense they'd both shared similar backgrounds – orphans with shitty situations, with people who were older than them, who scarred them for the rest of their lives. It was part of the reason he jumped so readily into the cloth the second that his second chance was gone. Because he figured, he'd exhausted his chances and he might as well give up. Even if his choice was a reluctant one at best.

The door to her apartment swung open, just before his knuckles even met the wood. "Hello Emma." He said warmly, his blue eyes focusing on her, still in awe at what had occurred just hours before.

"Hi." She said with a nervous laugh, opening the door wider and motioning for him to come in. "I'm sorry that it's sort of a mess. I thought I would have time to clean in between earlier and now, but I got called into work."

"Well," He started, tucking his hands into the pockets of his slacks, "That's good, considering I came to see you, not your apartment." Their gazes met and they both laughed, "I wasn't expecting this to be this awkward, I'll be honest."

Emma stepped forward slowly with a little shrug of her shoulders, "I wasn't expecting it either. Any of it really." She bit down on her bottom lip, "Did today really happen?"

"Aye, it did," Killian retorted with a lopsided grin, "I'm glad that we're not still dancing around all of that." He stepped closer to her, brushing her hair behind her ear, "It was certainly an unconventional afternoon."

Emma arched a brow and laugh, "We're lucky that the church was empty for that little…scene." She shook her head, a wide grin on her lips, "Did you have to ask forgiveness for your sins?" She pressed her tongue to the inside of her cheek, a teasing look in her eyes.

"Of course," He deadpanned, rolling his eyes, "I went right back into the confessional and begged forgiveness." Killian scoffed, "You know as well as I know that none of that was what I desired." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a silver chain with a circular pendant at the end of it. "This, however, was left in the confessional."

Emma's fingers went to her neck, eyes widening. She hadn't even felt the weight of the necklace lifted from her skin. "I-.. I guess I don't need that any longer." A small smile cracked at the corners of her lips, "I wore that as a reminder not to trust, I guess I've learned to trust now. At least a little more than I trusted before."

Killian bit down on his bottom lip for a long moment, before releasing it with a shake of his head, "You and I are very similar." He lowered his gaze, walking slowly towards her sofa, sinking down. "I won't lose you as I lost _her_."

Emma moved towards the sofa, tucking her legs beneath her as she sat down beside him. "You never really told me why you were at the church, just that life hadn't really been kind to you."

"No, life was a wretched bitch to me." He grinned then, enjoying the look of surprise on her face. "Honestly? We had sex in the confessional and you're giving me _that_ look for saying 'bitch'?"

Emma gave a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders, before bursting into laughter, "Well, I just know that I was expecting some 'holier than thou' Killian and look what I got instead."

"Oh is that what you _wanted_?" He curled his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side, "Well, I'm sorry to be a disappointment because I've never been the image of upstanding virtue."

Emma pursed her lips, a smirk curving the corners, "I think I can live with that." Her eyes flickered to his lips before she leaned closer and kissed him softly, "Are you going to tell me who this elusive 'her' is?"

"I'd prefer to give the short version of that story." Killian gritted his teeth together, pressing his forehead to hers briefly before leaning back against the sofa with a heavy sigh. "I was seventeen, she was _married_. I think that enough should prove how disastrous this ending will be." He scrubbed his hands over his face, "I'd prefer not to divulge any further."

"I understand." Emma said gently, taking his hand and squeezing it tightly, "Sometimes the past is better where it lay. The past."

Killian nodded in agreement, "And I chose the future." He leaned in and kissed her, his hand gently cupping her cheek. "I choose you."

Life in the church had been a reluctant decision on his part. He'd been left with no other choice than to lean on the establishment, when there was nothing else to lean on. He didn't have the temperament to be a quiet, good natured, priest. His mind had always been a place of unholy thoughts – ones that seemed like memories of another life. But he made do with what little he had, accepting each unfortunate turn that life put in his path.

But, now, he was embracing the tiny ray of hope – of light, that had entered his life, far more powerful than the promises of God had ever given him.

Killian pulled her onto his lap, her knees resting on the sofa on either side of his thighs. "Hello, love." He breathed, his eyes meeting hers as she leaned close to him, lips almost brushing. Her arms slid over his shoulders. "You know, I did promise you a bed this time."

Emma smirked down at him, kissing him soundly, "We still have dinner to eat before we get to the bed." She winked at him, sliding her hands over his shoulders, "As long as you're okay with junk food for dinner."

"It would be a hell of a lot better than the wholesome shit they like to feed us at the church," He laughed again, amused by her expression, "I told you I plan to leave the church, I have sex with you _in_ a confessional and you're surprised by 'bitch' and 'shit'. What am I going to have to do to rectify your surprise?"

"I can think of a few things," Emma retorted, her hair falling forward against his shoulders as she leaned in to kiss him. "I still see you as a holier-than-thou; you need to convince me otherwise." Her fingers brushed over his jaw, a grin spreading on her lips, "Nice five o'clock shadow."

"Thank you," He smirked, leaning up to catch her lips again, his hands sliding down her sides, before settling on her hips. He rocked his hips upwards, relishing the way she gasped against his lips. Killian pushed her shirt up to her ribs, fingers sliding over her smooth skin. "Are you sure you want to wait until the bedroom?"

Emma pushed her hair back behind her shoulders, her eyes meeting his, biting down on her bottom lip, "You still haven't convinced me of your unholiness." There was something intoxicating about the whole situation with him being a priest, something taboo and alluring. And she enjoyed taunting him with that fact, far too much. "Come on _Father_."

"_Emma_." Killian's voice was low and gravely, his eyes holding her gaze – flooded with desire. "Your desires for priests are showing, love." He flashed her a smug grin, tugging her down against his chest, rolling his hips upwards again. "But I much prefer you saying Killian."

Emma's lips were still parted, a silent moan escaping them, before she finally gathered enough sense to answer him with, "Well, you're lucky that I like that name." She held onto his shoulders firmly as she ground her hips down against him, giving as good as she was getting from him.

Killian groaned against her lips, deepening the kiss to drown out the sounds she was drawing from him. Their tongues tangled together, a silent war between their lips as she continued the slow, torturous, rocking of her hips. His fingers tangled in her hair, as his freehand slid over the curve of her waist, keeping her close.

If you had asked her last week if she'd ever see Killian Jones again – she might have said 'someday' or 'never', but she certainly wouldn't have ever imagined that he'd be here in Boston, a priest or not, and she wouldn't have thought he would still hold some flame for her. Her life had never had 'ah-ha' moments or moments where she thought that maybe some unseen fate was guiding her life, but this felt like the first one. Twisted as they might be, there was an element of a fairytale in finding him again. Something she never dreamed of expecting in her life.

"God, _Emma_." Killian gasped, inhaling sharply, eyes fluttering when her hand slipped between them, palming him through his pants. "What happened to the bedroom?" He breathed out, his eyes fluttering closed when her fingers tugged the zipper down.

"We'll get there." Emma grinned, dragging her lips along his jawline, teeth nipping at his skin. "But I'm enjoying myself right now." Shifted her hips, keeping them off of him as she let her hand slip inside his pants, sliding along him teasingly, hardly giving him the attention she was sure he was wanting.

"_Emma_." He swore, biting down on his bottom lip, hips rising up to meet her touch. "I thought I was supposed to show _you_ that I'm so unholy?" He wet his lips, eyes flickering open, unfocused and darkened with desire. "And you're far too clothed for that to occur."

Emma smirked mischievously, pulling her hand away from him, "Then sho-" Her words were cut off as he took that moment to flip her over onto her back along the sofa. "Oh." She tilted her head to the side, looking up at him.

Killian narrowed his eyes as he leaned over her, his lips trailing from her lips, over her jaws, and down her throat. His fingers worked her shirt up over her ribs, then over her breasts, until she had to sit up to help him pull it from her body. His hands smoothed over her skin, leaning to press kisses over her chest, brushing his lips over the rise of her breasts, tongue flicking out against the sensitive skin.

Her fingers wound through his thick dark hair, giving a sharp tug to it as his lips drew lower still, his tongue darting out over her navel, right at the edge of her jeans, and then retreating back up to capture her lips.

Her life had been a world of one night stands since her teenage days and they had certainly never been anything like this. Not that this was a one night stand – no, this was something more than that. She was drawn to him in a way that she'd never been drawn to someone before.

"_Killian_." Emma groaned in frustration, her hips rising off of the sofa with a desirous look in her eyes, "Bedroom."

"You're going to have to lead the way," Killian retorted, pulling away from her and instantly regretting the loss of friction and heat.

Emma rose to her feet, taking a second to catch her breath before she turned and gestured for him to follow her back to the bedroom. Her apartment was small, but right now the walk felt like a mile.

Killian's breath was hot against her neck as she reached to open the door, a shiver running down her spine and heat coiling between her legs. "That's not fair." She whispered, turning around to face him, lips just inches apart.

"We'll get in there in a minute." He assured with a wink, his fingers working at the button and zipper of her jeans. He shoved them down her hips, smirking as she did the same with his already opened pants. The second they had them off he had her pinned against the wall, hands hauling her upwards so she could wrap her legs around him. They were flush against one another, now, save for the thin cloth of their underwear that separated them. He ground against her, the friction making them both groan loudly.

Emma nimbly worked at the buttons of his shirt, pushing it from his shoulders so her fingers could brush through the soft dark hair that covered his chest. Her lips met his, the kiss heated and desperate as they continued the slow, teasing, rock of their hips into each other. "_Killian_." Emma moaned, shiver racing up her spine. "I need you." She whispered, cupping his cheeks as she felt his hand fumble by her hip for the doorknob.

"I need you too, love," He returned, pushing them through the door and towards her bed. Nothing in life had ever felt quite right. He had always felt just slightly out of place, out of touch, but not when Emma was there. His internal compass had made her his true north. Everything pointed to her and was guided by her. Somehow.

* * *

Emma rested her head against Killian's chest, fingers playing through the dark hair on his chest, brushing over the necklace that sat on his skin, "When did you get this necklace? It's… different."

Killian covered her hand with his, "I was found with that when I was a baby. It was the only thing I was found with."

"I have a baby blanket." Emma said, a hint of sadness in her voice, "From when I was found too." She pursed her lips, a small frown forming. "You and I are more alike than I knew." She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips, "We both know what it feels like to be abandoned."

"Nothing ever fit in my life, except for the few short months that you and I are together."

"I know that feeling," Emma said with a cant of her head, "I kept meeting people that felt like they almost fit, but it never quite worked out. Until now…Until you."

Killian laughed, "I certainly know that the whole God and church thing never suited me. When I was a kid, I used to pretend I was pirate, with no god or order keeping me in line. Then one foster family chose to keep me, they were devout Catholics and it just seemed right to do what they thought I should do."

"At least you kept a foster family," Emma retorted with an almost smug little grin, "I ended up stealing for a living."

"Well of course," Killian deadpanned, "Isn't that how 'soul mates' are supposed to work? Living parallel lives with little differences, good families and bad families, good decisions and bad decisions. Christianity and thievery." He smirked then, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, so you think we're soul mates or something?" Emma questioned with a cocked brow, "Isn't that a little too fantastical for even our unbelieving ways?" She leaned and stole another kiss before rolling off of him and curling into his side, her head resting against the pillow.

"Probably," He laughed, curling his arm around her. He looked around her room, his eyes falling on a red dress, hanging on her closet door. "Had you been planning on going out tonight?"

"It was for work," Emma shrugged, "An asshole cheating on his wife, pulling a lot of shit on people. I passed it off to someone else, I had better plans tonight." She grinned at him, "Luckily my plans involved a priest not a married man."

"What an awful sin that would have been." He grinned, winking at her.

"Oh, of course. Because Having sex with a priest isn't a cardinal sin." She retorted with a hearty laugh, curling closer to him, relishing his warmth. "I could happily stay this way for the rest of the night." Emma was quiet for a few long moments before he spoke again, "After you leave the church, you're staying up here right? Not going back to Tallahassee?"

Killian shook his head, "I plan to find somewhere around here to live. I think I can live with Boston, it's got a nice piece of the sea out there. I'm not landlocked." He kissed the top of her head, sighing contentedly, "We should get some shut eye."

"That sounds like a plan to me." She snuggled deeper into the blankets, her feet tangling with his.

They had scarcely been in bed more than an hour, not quite a sleep but peacefully dozing beside each other, when someone knocked at her front door.

Emma sat up slowly when she heard a second knock at her door. "My clothes are so far away." She mumbled as she scooted to the edge of the bed.

"I was comfortable." Killian bemoaned, eyeing her as she sauntered across the room, pulling on a pair of shorts and a tank top, followed by a sweatshirt.

"So was I." She retorted as a second knock came, "Coming!" Emma yelled, moving back over to the bed, leaning down to kiss him, "I'll be right back." She rubbed at her eyes as she headed out into the kitchen of her dining room, walking towards the door.

She swung it open and gaped slightly when she didn't see anyone there, but then she realized she was looking at the wrong height.

"Are you Emma Swan?"

"I am." Emma's hands went to her hips as she looked down at the waist-high boy standing at her front door.

"I'm Henry," He said with a lovable smile, his head tilting as he looked up at her, "I'm your son." The boy slipped under her arm, walking into her apartment with little care. "Do you have any orange juice?"

"I-.." Emma fumbled for words, her eyes widening as Killian walked out of the bedroom, shock on his own face as he saw the boy hopping up onto her bar stool.

Henry tilted his head in confusion as he stared at the Killian, "Are you my dad?"

* * *

A/n: I'm so cruel. But, that's literally the end of this fic. No more. IMAGINE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT. I wanted to leave you all with a marvelous cliffhanger.


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